


Financing Raksha

by Debi_C



Series: Symbiote [2]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Dogs, Gen, Tok'ra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-20
Updated: 2012-07-20
Packaged: 2017-11-10 07:59:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/464008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Debi_C/pseuds/Debi_C
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vala gets permission to take Raksha shopping.  Who's paying?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Financing Raksha

Daniel was in the small auditorium on stage behind the podium. He had just finished giving a briefing to the newest group of civilian personnel who were entering the program. He’d finished the initial introduction and was preparing the next block on friendly aliens of the SGC.

He took a sip from his coffee and grimaced. It was cold. But he determined to carry on and take a real break after this presentation. He looked up as the crowd made its way back in from the 15 minute break he had granted them.

The Archaeologist greeted the returning crowd as they entered the hall and waited until the people had settled in their seats. “Good morning again.” He said as he resumed his position behind the podium. Welcome to the second block of Aliens and Allies in the Milky Way Galaxy.” Several people chuckled as the group settled in. "We’ve discussed several of the species that you may encounter on a regular basis: The Goa’uld, the Jaffa, the Tok’ra, the Nox, the Azgard and several others. Now, at this time, I’d like to introduce the SGC's resident aliens, people who for one reason or another, actually live here in Cheyenne Mountain and with whom we interact on a daily basis. 

Daniel turned to the screen behind him and clicked the device. A picture appeared of a large brawny black man dressed in combat fatigues and holding a Jaffa staff weapon. He displayed a gold facial ornamentation in the shape of a snake in the middle of his forehead. “This is Master Teal’c of SG1. His home planet is Chulak and he once served as the First Prime of the Goa’uld Apophis.” He introduced the formidable warrior. “You’ll see him fairly regularly here in the mountain, although right now he is off planet working with the new Jaffa Nation helping them to become organized and more politically stable.” Daniel turned and smiled at the crowd. “When Teal’c is here, he enjoys helping you new personnel sharpen your combat skills.” A nervous laugh rippled through the audience.

“Daniel, Daniel, I need you.” A seductively lowered voice came from behind the false wall on the stage to the left of the Archaeologist.

Daniel stopped in his lecture and sighed, looking back towards the direction of the voice. He answered knowing that she wouldn’t quit until he acknowledged her at least. “Vala, I’m busy. Can it wait?”

The tall, slender woman came out to his side by the podium. A large silver wolf-like creature that had obviously been following her stopped at the edge of the wall and peered out uncertainly at the crowd.

“But Daniel,” the dark haired siren spoke to him as she put her hand on his shoulder. “I need your plastic card.”

“”Why?” he asked suspiciously. He then turned to the now curious audience. “And speaking of our friendly allies from the stars, this is Ms. Vala Mal Doran also of SG1.”

Vala looked at the audience and smiled warmly. “Good Morning, everyone.”

A hand shot up from the crowd. “Where are you from Ms. Doran?”

She gazed at the eager young man. “Oh, here and there.” She purred, “Daniel and I met in the darkness of space. It was very romantic.”

Daniel, blushing slightly at her comment, interrupted the conversation. “Vala, why do you want my credit card?”

“Why darling, we’re going shopping.” She turned and answered him brightly.

“Who’s we?”

“Sam, Raksha and I.”

“Sam’s going?” He asked suspiciously.

“Yes, but she said her plastic is ‘maxed’. She made parenthesis in the air with her fingers.

“Lucky Sam. And Raksha?”

“Daniel, she doesn’t have a credit card.”

“I know that. Why is she going?” he dropped his voice to keep the audience from overhearing their ridiculous conversation, not even sure if it was in their security clearance.

“Because, Darling, Raksha is a woman, a female and to interact properly with polite, intelligent society she must represent herself with proper ornamentation. She’s not a dog you know!”

He found it interesting that Vala had apparently become Raksha’s proponent. “She doesn’t need clothes. She has fur!”

“Ornamentation, Darling, not clothing.” Symbols of intelligence, individuality and beauty.” Vala looked almost disgusted. “I thought you were educated in matters of this sort. You are an anthro- archaeo some such aren’t you?” There was a snigger from the crowd.

Daniel sighed and motioned the wolf out onto the stage. Raksha gracefully trotted to center stage where she sat nervously between her two new friends. He turned to face the crowd again. “Now, I would like to introduce you to our newest resident Cheyenne Mountain here. This is Raksha-Shemi. Raksha is a Tok’ra who is blended with Shemi. The host is a member of the Lupan race, an intelligent canid.” He indicated the silver coated wolf. “Raksha is new to us and we are still finding the right niche for her abilities.”

Raksha bowed her head and smiled with her teeth. A hand popped up. “How do we address her and can she speak English?”

Raksha nodded and growled in return. “Raksha”.

The scientists started babbling excitedly amongst themselves. Daniel held his hand up to get their attention. “As you see Raksha is quite understandable if you listen closely.” Nervous laughter answered him. “And if she does speak, I’d advise you to listen very closely. It will be important.”

Vala looked at him impatient, arms crossed. “Daniel, darling, the card?”

He frowned and dug out his wallet. After locating the card, he handed it to the woman. “Bring it back with some money left on it this time please.”

“Of course Darling.” She slipped the credit card into her décolletage and smiled sweetly at him. Then the two of them left the stage, Vala waving royally at the crowd.

As the two females left another hand came up. “Dr. Jackson, are you and Ms. Doran married?”

Daniel stared at the young man open mouthed. Then he managed to respond. “No, no. Not at all. Ms. Mal Doran and I are just friends and team mates on SG1.”

“But why did you give her your credit card?” A young woman asked.

“Well as you can imagine, it’s really hard for an alien, no matter how human she looks and acts, to get a credit rating.” He managed with a straight face. “I hold that one for her and she always pays me back.”

“How?” she pressed.

“Paycheck from the SGC and she cheats at cards.” He answered with a grin. 

“So what does Ms. Mal Doran do for the SGC?” another young woman whom Daniel recognized as a new recruit for his section asked. He wasn’t sure he liked the tone of voice to the question.

“Vala was instrumental in the defeat of the Ori in our galaxy.” He advised the crowd. “Through great personal sacrifice, she was able to infiltrate the religious society and assist in the acquisition and translation of the Ark of Truth.” This seemed to quiet the crowd.

“And the wolf?”

“Ah, a good lesson for you to learn early is things are not always what they appear to be.” Daniel came out from behind the podium to look at the young person who asked the question so he could remember who had not been listening to his earlier lecture on friendly aliens. “Raksha-Shemi is not a wolf. Remember that. It’s very important for you to recognize that things are not the same through the Wormhole as they are on Earth. To quote General O’Neill: 'You are not in Kansas any more.'”

“If she isn’t a wolf then…”

“First and foremost Raksha is a five hundred year old Tok’ra." It was Doctor Withers, a Physicist. Not one of his thank goodness. "For those of you with a either a short attention span or a shorter memory, their race is closely related to the Goa’uld, the false gods that for better or worse interacted with our own race in our ancient past. Ra enslaved and guided the Egyptian civilization. Chronus the Greek, Marduk the Persians. There was also more beneficent Goa’ulds who actually instructed and tried to protect their humans. One of them was Egeria who actually fought against her progenitor to help her humans. Those Goa’ulds became known as Tok’ra, the translation for Against Ra. She was Raksha's mother.”

He picked up the mouse and clicked it on another folder, bringing up a picture of a naked Symbiote in its snakish glory. “This is a Goa’uld or Tok'ra like Raksha in its unbonded form. She is not the wolf. She is the descendant of an aquatic creature that managed to survive and intellectualize by acting in a symbiotic relationship with other stronger creatures.” He clicked it again and a photo of the graceful Lupan he had just added to the power-point came up on the screen. “This is the host, whose name for herself is Shemi. She is an advanced Canide of the planet where Raksha and her previous host had sought asylum after she had been separated from the Tok’ra. I’m hoping that I will be allowed to test Shemi for intelligence, but” he paused, “I will ask very politely before I do anything.”

“Yes!” a familiar voice called out from the back of the room. “One must never be impolite to our friendly aliens. They may save your asses some day.” General O’Neill in his well worn BDUs sauntered down the aisle casually and hopped on the stage beside his friend. “Nor never, never try to separate a Tok’ra and her dog or wolf or host.” He took the mouse from the archaeologist’s hands. “Daniel, its lunch time.”

“Jack, I’m working.” Jackson rolled his eyes.

“Now, now, lunch.” the officer continued. “And there is cake.”

“Jack.”

“Chocolate cake, with pudding in the middle.”

Daniel dropped his head in surrender and turned off the computer darkening the screen. “Class dismissed. Reassemble at thirteen hundred hours or one PM.” Jack threw his arm around his friend, pitched the mouse onto the podium and guided him off the stage extolling the quality of the Boston Cream Pie that awaited them.

The newly recruited geniuses gathered their papers, notebooks, crib sheets; got up discussing many things of intergalactic importance between them and exited out the back door in an unorganized mass reminiscent of Lemmings. One louder than usual voice was heard to comment that General O’Neill was slightly insane from having too much alien stuff downloaded in his brain. Another wanted to know where Vala shopped.


End file.
